dualisnet | TEXT: Day after the Festivities

Entry tags:

TEXT: Day after the Festivities

Username: dpdhank@dualislink

My name is Hank Anderson, I'm a patrol officer with Dualis's police. I think I met a few people at the Dualis Days festival, many of them during the unfortunate opening ceremonies.

The police are conducting an official investigation but I want to conduct my own independent investigation. In my experience that usually solves cases a little more quickly. [That's how he and Connor made it as far as they did, superseding what was technically required of them. The end result was also the better result for the world, not the preferred result for the powers that be, too.]

I know some of you were close to the bombing. If you're interested and able to give me some information I'll be in the kitchen on floor six for the rest of the evening.

[Anyone that comes to find him will be lucky. For the moment he'll be listening to some jazz he loaded onto a music player and speaker he found in a thrift shop rather than metal. But you better believe when it's necessary he'll switch to metal if he has to. In the meantime he's also reading an actual paper book, a softcover novel that he was lucky enough to find.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh, he's a jackass, first and foremost. He's picky and fidgety and reminds me of the calorie contents of all my food. He's fuckin' like, GQ pretty. Always checks himself out in mirrors to make sure he still looks good. He actually got in front of me on the other side of a two-way interrogation room mirror to do it once. He's smart enough to work out where suspects hide but still stumbles over a lot of social graces.

[But that's not really what he's like, is he?]

Okay, we were on a case where we had to find an android that murdered a human. We hunted her down in the back of this sex-club that owned her. And she fought us... but her girlfriend fought us, too. Turned out she'd fallen in love with another one of the 'Tracis'. They knocked my gun away from me during the fight and Connor could have shot them...

But he didn't. And they told us that the guy was out to break her just to get off, and she had been trying to defend herself. All the evidence backed it up. So we uh... we both let her and her girlfriend go They ran and he didn't stop them. That's the type of guy he is. His entire programming was to hunt down androids like that and he used his own judgment.

[Even if Hank could tell that it confused and rankled him, but it was the best thing he ever saw him do.]

[ Sharon leans forward as she listens, elbows on the table, apple still in hand but forgotten for the moment, engrossed. There can be no doubt that Hank cares for his partner, even as he speaks on Connor's more annoying habits, his words are colored with attachment.

And, as he continues, she can understand why. ]

It kind of sounds like androids are more human than people like to think. [ If they can fall in love, if they think they can feel, they do. What has a human ever created that didn't somehow reflect the creator and their flaws? ]

It's cool you guys let them go. I bet a lot of people probably wouldn't have done that. [ She has no faith in humanity, that much is obvious. ]

What do you think Connor will do while you're stuck here? He's a cop, too, right? Or... owned by the police? [ She wrinkles her nose at the word 'owned'. ] Doesn't that mean he'll be safe? I mean, safer than say... sex worker androids, right?

[ But if he goes against his programming, maybe that means he's not safe. God, humans are shit. ]

Nah. He was owned by the company that made him, but they all just got their independence. And that means Connor is a free man. So he's on his own. First time just taking care of himself. My dog I'm not too worried about. I had instructions- [a will] -that if something should happen to me that he end up with my old boss.

[Pouring way too much of his heart out to this poor kid whose been worried about her dad. He knows it's because he doesn't have the whiskey he wants to bury this shit. He'll do that soon, go get some.]

Connor, though, I really wanted to be around for him. [And he wanted Connor around to help hold him up.]

[Then, he says very lowly.] I'll tell you a secret. I probably wasn't even a cop back home anymore. He needed a distraction at one point and to give him one I punched a fuckin' federal fuckface that I hated. [He chuckles again at that. Surely the type of guy that people want investigating a bombing on his own, right?]

[ She wants to say something meaningful, some mishmash of words that help ease the worry, the niggling fear that she knows comes from being apart from those you love—friends, family, lovers, or whatever else exists in between—but those things don't come to her naturally. Plus, it's likely she's projecting and she knows it. Instead, she grins when he chuckles. ]

Sounds like causing a distraction was more like a bonus. [ Approval rings clear in her voice. It says a lot about Hank that he'd risk his job to help Connor but now he's left her with more questions. ]

So, why'd he need the distraction? [ It sounds like it could be a good story. ] Did it work?

Because if he didn't solve the case in time, he was going to be disassembled. He needed time to have a second look at the evidence. I decided that even though I like my job, it wasn't worth a man's life. Especially if it was a job where that came into question.

So I just took the bonus severance pay of breaking a dick's nose.

And yeah, it worked. Canada has more relaxed judgments about androids. It's illegal to own them and there's no reason to go around destroying them. So even if the manhunt for every plastic person was done I still wanted to get him out. That was my plan.

He can probably make it on his own. He's smart. He can do it. [He is mostly telling himself that. That Connor will be fine without him.]

[ Her face twists in mild disgust. She doesn't have an issue with people dying, a lot of people deserve to die, or even be disassembled, but not because of something like that; for wrong things, for unforgivable things, but not failure. ]

I'd say a job that fires you for doing the right thing isn't a job you should want. [ Facts, yo. Though, she's aware that he likely broke some rules and maybe some laws and life doesn't work like she thinks it should but, hey, he did the right thing. That matters. ]

I bet he's looking for you. [ She can't say whether or not he'll be all right on his own, whether he is smart, or capable, but if he cares half as much for Hank as Hank does for him then there's no doubt in her mind that's what he'd do. That's what she'd do. ]

[That idea actually makes his heart pang a little. He could actually imagine that. Connor would absolutely look for him, tirelessly, even. He'd blame himself more the longer he didn't find him. Maybe taking care of Sumo would be something that Connor would do, as well, but his partner would definitely make finding him a priority.]

Yeah, that's probably what he's doing.

[Hank sighs out his nose.]

Shit sucks. I just hope I can get home a little early, too, instead of popping in a year later.

[ She feels a tickle of guilt, questioning whether or not she said the right thing. ]

I... hope you can, too. [ But she feels a pang of jealousy as she says it, too. Jealous and fearful that the one person that matters most to her will probably never know she did everything she could to find him, that she did her best to save him, to save others, that she tried at all. He has the hope that he'll go back and maybe, hopefully, his partner will still be there. She doesn't have that, can't will herself to have that.

Ah, fuck. Now, she just feels bitter and upset when she should be angry and vindictive. She wants to be angry and vindictive; it'd feel better. ]

Personally, I just kind of hope I wake up from this and that it's all just another shitty nightmare. [ Maybe that sounds dramatic but she's lived literal nightmares and, honestly, she'd rather be there, in them, with him, than feel so isolated and alone in a place like this. ]

I bet you get some real fucked up ones.

[On one hand, he doesn't want to think too much about a lonely Connor searching for him. On the other, he doesn't want to remind this poor girl of her nightmares.]

Maybe if you can take control of it you can get us out of the fuckin' cyberpunk projects and into a nice apartment complex.

I'd get us out of the cyberpunk projects but I don't think anyone would like where we'd end up. [ She seems to realize how cryptic that sounds and quickly continues. ] I don't really have good dreams, even when I try. [ She shrugs. ] Nightmares or nothing.

[ She even went to the doctor a lot as a kid for it. She's just happy she doesn't sleepwalk anymore. ] So, maybe you can take control of it; you probably have a better idea of what nice is than me.

[Hank's brain hates him in a different way. His dreams are usually either the typical brand of bizarre- naked at work. Driving the Oscar Meyer Weenermobile with a siren. Watching an action movie that's a buddy cop flick with Ronald McDonald and Colonel Sanders and Wendy is the sexy fem fatale (that one nearly converted him to only food cart food forever).]

[Or they're sort of happy. Playing with Sumo and Cole at the playground. Watching him and several other kids playing duck duck goose. The generic but true memory of rounds of catch in the backyard. And most recently, stupid half-ass things his mind has concocted with Connor laying on him on his couch, his plastic idiot head on his chest]

If this was my dream it'd be a lot stranger. Though with people naming places like Gotham and bringing up the X-Men I'm kinda wonderin'.

[ What are you eating before bed, Hank? Jesus.

She recognizes some of the words but they don't ring any real familiar bells (now if he'd said Middle-earth, she'd have perked up). ]

Yeah, I really don't know how much stranger you could make it. It's like we're in a fucked up love child of, I don't know, Blade Runner and Wizard of Oz.

So if you're Dorothy, am I the Tin Man or am I the Cowardly Lion?

[As if either is a deep compliment. One a man who can't figure out his emotions. One a man who is too fuckin' chicken shit to do what he needs to. Both grow, at least, but they're kind of perfect examples of how people can go wrong after a bit much.]

[Though considering some of their other threads of conversation, that's one of the lighter ones.]

Edited 2019-07-16 03:05 (UTC)

So sure you're not the Scarecrow? [ She teases somewhat hesitantly. ]

Hell no. I've got too much stuffing for it.

[He leans back and drums on his stomach like the donut lover he is. What the fuck good is it having some padding if you don't drum your belly, one must ask.]

[ That makes her laugh in response, rolling her eyes lightly at the gesture; what a dad thing for him to do. She lets a quiet fall before she stands up from the table. ]

I'm gonna let you get back to your investigation, good luck with it. [ You know, don't draw too much attention to yourself and shit. She doesn't mind Hank too much so she'd rather he stick around. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

TEXT: Day after the Festivities

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject